Anna May Bernet Callaghan, my maternal grandmother, was a powerful influence on me as a child. She was strong-willed, highly educated, generous and loving (but not sentimental.) I remember her playing Chopin on the piano and discussing politics with a passion. She had a bachelor’s degree from the University of Chicago and a Master’s in history from Cleveland’s Western Reserve University. 

With my mother, Helen Callaghan Conway, and my Aunt Joan Callaghan Woodward, Grandma taught me to respect women and to recognize their distinctive gifts. If any one of them was present, there was never any doubt who was the smartest person in the room or who commanded the most attention or loyalty. 

Grandma took her Catholic faith seriously, and attended Mass regularly, but she was not intimidated by members of the clergy. Her Uncle Will Bernet was a priest, and she learned from him to think critically and to question things that she didn’t understand or agree with. 

Her hobby was buying and selling houses. (Today she would be a house flipper on HGTV.) She had different pieces of furniture in storage so that when she acquired a new house she had options. It was said that when Anna May moved, a small fleet of moving vans headed in different directions delivering furniture not just to her new house but to the homes of her children and other family members.  I remember returning home from elementary school one day and all our living room furniture had been removed and replaced by pieces from one of Grandma’s storehouses! I also remember my Great Aunt Helen (Grandma’s sister) standing at her front door barring two oversized movers from entering her home and absolutely refusing to exchange her dining room table for one that Grandma said was a “better fit.” 

During Grandma’s final years she suffered a series of m.inor strokes which left her physically weak and frail. Her mind was clear, however, and her will was strong as ever!

I was only 15 when Grandma died. I was devastated. I couldn’t imagine life without her. She had been such a “force of nature” and such a powerful presence. 

That was more than 50 years ago. Not a day goes by that I don’t think of her and miss her intensely. 

I remember Anna May Bernet Callaghan as a proud woman, gifted in so many ways.  I am proud—and very grateful—to be her grandson. 

Slow trucks passing slower trucks. 

In some ways, it’s a metaphor for all the frustrations of daily living. Driving along at a safe but slightly excessive speed, you encounter a truck barely traveling at the approved speed limit and ever so slowly passing another even slower truck in the right hand lane.

Patience is a virtue but it’s also painful. You hate being slowed down by a big old truck. And while you appreciate the fact that this truck has every right to safely pass an even slower truck, you really wish he’d hit the gas and pass more quickly!

Worse, you notice a sign on the back of the truck in the passing lane that says, “Speed controlled electronically.” This means, of course, that the driver’s efforts to pass the rig in the right lane are hampered somewhat by his corporate office’s predetermined sense of how fast he can go. So there’s no use cursing the driver. Curse the company!

All of this is silly, right? It’s obsessive behavior that embarrasses you even as you engage in it. “Let go of it,” you say to yourself. “This, too, will pass.” Eventually.

And yet for all my efforts—and all the many miles I travel—I have a hard time with this.

Slow trucks passing slower trucks. Don’t they know the king is in his chariot right behind them, claiming the right of way? Don’t they understand that it’s urgent that a very important person like me pass by quickly?

Have mercy on me, Lord, in your compassion. Be patient with me as I refuse to follow your example. But above all, either clear the highways of my life of all slow moving traffic or teach me to slow down and “go with the flow.” Amen.

 Do you have a favorite pet? Most people do. 

My favorite is Dill Harris, my daughter Suzanne’s eight year-old pug. Dill is friendly, faithful, easy to  care for and a great companion for Suzanne who lives alone.

Suzanne and Dill are visiting us in Louisville for several days. This gives me a chance to be with my favorite pet. We take walks when there’s a break in our gloomy February weather. He cuddles next to me on the couch (but only when Suzanne is away). Most of all, Dill reminds me that I am blessed to have him around because his presence is pure gift, a joy to be treasured.

There are three kinds of animals: 1) pets like Dill, 2) domestic animals like horses, cows and sheep, and 3) wild animals like coyotes, deer and all the rest. St. Francis of Assisi reminds us that all these animals are our sisters and brothers, creatures made by a good and loving God. To abuse an animal is to spit in the face of God because, like us, but differently, animals are made in God’s image. They are precious to him—as they should be to us.

Why did God create animals? For the same reason he created all things visible and invisible: To express his love. Creation is filled with wonderful diversity—from the immensity of the universe to the particularity of the smallest things unseen by human eyes. Love is the source and substance of all things. Diverse, complex and yet utterly simple, the world that only God could make compels us to give praise (laudato, si) , to give thanks and to accept responsibility for the stewardship of all God’s gifts.

But little Dill isn’t a philosopher. He’s just a buddy, a faithful companion and a gentle reminder that things are never as bad as they seem.

Have you ever wondered why every Mass begins with prayers that focus on our sinfulness and God’s mercy? Pope Francis says that it’s because sin has separated us from God and our neighbor. To enter fully into the Eucharist, we must first acknowledge our sins and then ask God to restore us to right relations with him and each other.

“Sin severs the relationship with God and severs the relationship with our brothers, the relationship with family, with society, with the community,” the pope said during his first general audience of the New Year. Sin is always divisive. It always severs, separates and divides. 

At the beginning of Mass, we dispose ourselves “to worthily celebrate the holy mysteries, recognizing our sins before God and our brothers, recognizing that we are sinners.” 

The Confiteor (general confession) that is included in the penitential rite as an option calls our attention to sins that we have committed in thoughts, words and actions. But it also acknowledges our sins of omission, our failure to act or speak in situations that require our positive engagement.

“We often feel good because – let’s say – ‘I did not hurt anyone,’” the Pope said. “In reality, it is not enough not to harm our neighbor, we need to choose to do good, seizing the occasions for giving positive testimony that we are disciples of Jesus.”

When we confess to both God and our brothers and sisters that we are sinners, it helps us to understand how sin not only separates us from God, but also from each other, the pope said. Then, when we make the gesture of beating our breast, repeating the words “through my fault” three times, this also reminds us that we have sinned by our own responsibility and no one else’s.

Out of fear or shame, sometimes we want to accuse others for our sin, Pope Francis said, but it is good to always confess our sins “with sincerity.” That is, to make an honest confession of our responsibility for what we’ve done or failed to do—and not to blame others or minimize the severity of our sinfulness.

After this confession of sin, Pope Francis continued, we then turn to the Blessed Virgin Mary and all the saints and angels to helps us on the path toward full communion with God, “when sin will be definitively annihilated.”

Turning to Mary, who like her son was without sin, and to the saints and angels, who know our struggles and are close to God, helps us bear the burdens associated with our guilt. It helps us overcome the bitter loneliness that so often accompanies the secret sins we carry within us daily.

Pope Francis is particularly strong on the importance of devotion to Mary, which he says is not an option but an obligation for Christians. “Devotion to Mary is not spiritual etiquette,” the pope said in his homily New Year’s Day, the Solemnity of Mary, Mother of God. “It is a requirement of Christian life.” He went on to say that the Church needs a mother’s heart—one which knows how to keep the tender love of God and to feel the heartbeat of all around us—in in order to prevent Christianity from become merely an idea or doctrine. 

Mary was often silent, pondering God’s mysterious ways in her heart. Pope Francis believes that we have much to learn from Mary’s silence. She can teach us to be calm in the face of difficulties or confusion. And she can help us distance ourselves from the noise and distractions of daily life—“the blare of commercials, the streams of empty words, and the overpowering waves of empty chatter and loud shouting.”

When we confess our sins at the beginning of Mass, we recollect ourselves, removing ourselves from the realm of sin and evil and placing our minds and hearts in the loving care of Mary and all the angels and saints. This ought to be a healing moment where the separation that exists between us and God, and the isolation we feel from our neighbors, can be mended. 

As Pope Francis says, sin is always divisive. It always severs, separates and divides. But God’s grace—shown most powerfully in the Blessed Virgin Mary—is stronger than sin. No matter how grave the wounds, God’s love and mercy are always ready to heal us and restore us to full communion with God and our neighbors.